Are You Mine?
by SuicidalSmile
Summary: He couldn't tell you what it was about her, but he wanted her and he was going to get her . . . one way or another she'd be his.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys, I was just replaying skyrim and was doing my usual archer/ thief build when I realized again how mad it makes me that you can't marry Brynjolf! I mean seriously? What a piss off. But anyways I decided I'd write M rated multi chaptered fic about his relations with my OC Dragonborn Aria. Probably going to be 3-5 chapters of about 1000 words each. Please enjoy and review if you so wish.

Rated M for future smut

Chapter 1: Newcomer

Something odd whistled on the afternoon winds. Brynjolf could tell right away the balance of the bridge way city had shifted; an alien feel in the air. Quick eyed and on his toes, Brynjolf examined the market carefully, eyeing up all the usual prospects. As far as he could see everything was the same, dull people with flat eyes selling wares that wouldn't even be worth snitching. Yet, he _knew _change was coming, in what capacity he yet didn't fully comprehend.

Sighing softly to himself, Brynjolf juggled the less than hefty coin purse at his side, disgruntled. He longed for the days when septims flowed easily, when a soft jingle could always be heard. Unfortunately, the guild had run into a dry patch, a curse as Delvin liked to call it, and every coin was a scramble these days; even for a seasoned pro such as himself. Deciding it best to return to the Flagon, Brynjolf swiftly closed shop and pocketed his earnings, a noticeable slump in his step as he returned home.

XOXOX

First things first, Brynjolf couldn't help but admire the minx. She sauntered around the market with a haughty eye and a quick tongue. Scars lined her arms and raven black hair was tied back into a long braid which swung over her shoulder, her hands seemingly permanently stationed on her generous hips. Her saucy tongue made even Grelka blink twice, and she haggled like no other he had ever seen.

Secondly, Brynjolf could _feel _her strength. It oozed in every step she took and the way her midnight eyes flickered around restlessly. It was then that her gaze met his, sizing him up in a way that made him feel entirely vulnerable.

Strutting across the cobble stone she stopped before him, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a elegant brow. "And what do _you _sell?" She asked mockingly, taking in the various oddities and potion bottles of Brynjolf's stall.

Clearing his dry throat, Brynjolf motioned to his potions elaborately, "well, only the most mystical and wondrous potions for well sodden adventures such as yourself." Brynjolf smirked comfortably, gauging her expression. " You've never done a honest day's work in your life for all that coin you're carrying eh, lass?"

The stranger's cheeks brightened, brows tightening and her hips shifting almost angrily. "Oh yes? And what would _you _know about an honest days work?" She snipped back, voice ladled in venom.

Brynjolf would've laughed if he hadn't been so taken aback, "nothing lass. I know nothing about honesty and I don't particularly like the idea of becoming familiar with it." Brynjolf paused for dramatic effect, watching the girl's face. "_But _if you would like to know whatever it is I'm talking about I have a little proposition for you."

This caught the lasses attention, her eyes widening a fraction, the bow strapped to her back almost quivering in curiosity. "And what would that be?" She asked, her voice still edged in scepticism but listening nonetheless.

Smiling darkly, Brynjolf leaned over the counter to whisper in her ear, "it involves you using a particular set of skills which may or may not be illegal." When the lass didn't pull away, Brynjolf assumed she was still interested. Continuing, Brynjolf moved his mouth closer to her ear; her shoulders tensed at the action. "I need you to steal a certain something and plant it on that dark elf over there, I have a client who wants him, _well . . . _dealt with."

The lass exhaled sharply, side stepping away from Brynjolf easily. Glaring at him, her answer was clear on her face.

"No," She hissed through clenched teeth, "find something else to do your thieving dirty work." And with that she turned on her heel and marched towards the Bee and Barb, fuming.

Brnyjolf watched her go with a look of amusement on his handsome mug, a beauty she may be she was no thief. He may have misjudged her or his _other _head might have gotten the better of him, either way he'd find someone else for the job, their were always others.

XOXOX

The next time he saw her she was strolling around with a huge hulking mountain of a man and a fresh set of armour. Bruised and thinner than he remembered, she smiled as she hauled bags of goods to all the vendors of the market; selling every last piece of her salvage. Brynjolf watched her jaw dropped as she was handed mounds of septim, exchanging her equipment. She finished hastily, pocketing her buckets of money, a happy smile on her face.

Brynjolf continued to stare as she chattered with the beast of a man, buying them both a bottle of mead and a sweet roll. Laughing at something her companion said she shot a look over her shoulder, icy eyes meeting his. A sly grin passed her lips as his eyes held hers, his own face slack and shocked. Rolling her shoulders and cracking her knuckles in a motion that could be taken as cockiness she smirked at him.

Unable to even respond, Brynjolf just gazed after her as she vanished down the walkways, talking avidly. She mocked him with her pointed gaze, the damn woman must know that he'd never seen a single person pocket that much gold _honestly _in his entire life. Angry and with a damaged pride, Brynjolf decided he'd better make a hasty return to the rat way before he did something he'd regret.

XOXO

The lass's name was Aria. Brynjolf found out that tidbit of information not from the woman herself but from Maven Black-Briar, who was less than pleased with the woman's constituency in the city. For near an hour the woman griped about the new _Thane _of Riften, throwing all sorts of insults around.

"That damn wench doesn't know who she's dealing with!" Maven hissed, ignoring Brynjolf's presence. "I have ties with the Dark Brotherhood and that whore better not forget it."

Although Maven's hatred wasn't thoroughly misplaced, Brynjolf found himself amused at her empty threats. Ties or not, he had heard certain things about the lass that would unsettle Maven more than the news of her Thane-hood. Rumours were one of the weapons of a thief's trade and he had paid sorely to hear that piece of news. Apparently, the girl was running will all sorts of shady folk, assassins, mages and the _Blades. _That last one sent him reeling, the thought to be extinct order was interested in that snotty brat? The mystery behind her was almost enough to drive him wild, Brynjolf _wanted _her. He wanted her beneath him, withering in ecstasy as he pounded against her and he wanted her in his guild.

The sexual desire was understandable, one just had to look at the lass. The latter of the two was more personal; he wanted to see her skill, and he _needed _to know about her. It was a thirst that he almost couldn't control. Deciding silently he would make her his, Brynjolf gulped down his last swig of ale and pretended he was listening to Maven's rant.

A/N: So, how did you like it? Please review or tell me if I should continue. Thank you so much and have a good rest of your day.

3 Suicidal


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for all your immediate support for this story by two favourites and follows before it even hits the twenty four hour mark. I'm going to try to update daily ((if I can)) but that also means the chapters may be shorter. But it'll depend on my mood. Anyways, please enjoy and review if you feel so inclined!

Chapter 2: Had me worried

The lass hadn't been in town for over three weeks. Now, he'd never admit it but Brynjolf could almost feel the worry sink in. When she'd left nearly a month ago she seemed stressed; her eyes lacked spark and her smile was absence of it's usual mirth. He'd have to be blind not to see her concern and there was virtually nothing he could do about the matter. That girl was a anomaly, she spent less time around the markets and more time in her abode at Honeyside. If Brynjolf were to make a guess he'd say she was preparing; for what he didn't know.

He knew of her exploits and her hang outs; although he couldn't say he approved of her drifting around with those obnoxious Companions. Not that he could do anything about what she did, as he recently discovered the damn woman was _Dragonborn. _She had a lot of responsibility on her shoulders and he didn't envy her for that.

Albeit, he was ill at ease about her absence. Riften also missed her, everything seemed grey and dreary and everyone seemed to drift around a bit slower than usual. Brnyjolf couldn't voice his tension to his fellow thieves though; that bunch didn't much like the idea of recruiting a woman who demanded so much attention after all.

But that was where things didn't add up. The woman was an _assassin. _And a nasty good one he'd heard; and he had seen her demonic looking steed outside at the stables, but wouldn't her position as Dragonborn ruin her subtlety? What kind of waking legend went about murdering people for gold? All in all it was terrifying, yet the quick thief couldn't shake the racy images from his mind. His nights were haunted by vivid scenes of her soft mouth wrapped around his cock, stroking those long fingers down his dark treasure trail. It was beginning to verge on obsessive and Brynjolf knew obsession led to weakness. He convinced himself once he bed the lass the dreams would cease; he needed that mental security that the thoughts of her naked would stop eventually.

However, getting to the deed of a good _tumbling _would be much harder than he had previously anticipated. Almost every time she _was _in town she was accompanied by various men, all who seemed to watch her with predatory hungriness. The one she seemed to travel with most often went by the name Farkas, a large Nord with more scars and war wounds than one could count. It almost made Brynjolf jealous seeing how close those two were; they laughed freely with one another and Aria often giggled in a way that could only be described as girlish around him. It was only with the Companion that she made such adorable noises and faces; it made Brynjolf's teeth clench whenever he saw them together.

Now, he was not a petty man and envy did not suit him well, but he was positively green when it came to the strong headed lass. She teased him endlessly and the way she swung those hips he had to hold himself back from jumping her in public. Not to mention, the girl had a knack for gold. Never once had he seen her carrying less than a thousand septims, the comforting sound of gold clinking together calling his name. _Damn_, that woman would be the death of him and every time he thought about her he grew hard. He needed to fix this issue and _fast_.

XOXOX

It wasn't until a few days later that he knew something was seriously wrong. When Farkas and another man who shared a scary resemblance to the man came into Riften looking _terribly _angry he knew something had happened. The two looked like they were about ready to strangle a man, large great swords swinging on their backs, ready to kill. Almost like caged wolves, the two stalked around town, asking passerby's if they had possibly seen the missing Dragonborn.

Brynjolf ached to ask them what they knew about the current situation, but he decided it would be better to wait for them to approach him. Which they eventually did, after much shambling around and wasting time. Once one of them finally spotted him, Brynjolf steeled himself, getting ready for accusations.

"You," The one Brynjolf didn't recognize roared, pointing a finger at him. "You know Aria don't you?" The stranger's tone was rough, and his dark eyes blazed with anger.

Crossing his arms over his chest and appearing nonchalant, Brynjolf shrugged. "Yes, I know her. Who doesn't in this town? The woman _is _the Thane after all."

The mountain man did not seem amused with Brynjolf's little act, his eyes narrowed. "Cut the act, whelp." He snarled, "we're searching for our Harbinger and I don't have time for your gruff."

Farkas nudged past the other man, eyeing up Brynjolf testily. "I know this one, Vilkas." He grunted, "Aria says he's some kind of thief." Farkas shrugged, obviously his wit was not as sharp as his blade.

The other one didn't seem quite so relaxed. Gruffly snatching the front of Brynjolf's robes, Vilkas pulled the man close to his face, lifting him off the ground. "A thief eh? Well isn't that something. You so much as _see _Aria and you don't inform us first I'll cut off your ruddy head." Vilkas barked, releasing Brynjolf promptly and pushing the man away from him. "Until next time, whelp." He said, turning on his heel and marching off, Farkas following in tow.

Brynjolf glared after them, fighting the urge to draw his blade and sink it into the mans shoulder. What made those two scum rats so damn entitled? Furious, Brynjolf cursed under his breath and slammed his fist down on the counter top, mind racing.

Where _was _that girl?

XOXOX

The moment he saw her his entire body stiffened. She looked bone tired and her previously long hair was shoulder length and dirty. Her footfalls lacked their usual luster and a new scar curved down the dramatic slant of her right cheekbone; nightfall eyes weary.

Brynjolf wanted nothing more than to run up to her and shake her stupid for being so selfish. The damn girl had everyone worried! Even Maven had been whispering such nonsense as maybe her threat to call the Dark Brotherhood was a bit unnecessary. Honestly, the lass had him in a cold sweat at night. Where previous lusty dreams of her in bed with him romped freely, they were unwittingly replaced with horrific images of her body bloodied and eyes unseeing. At first the dreams had angered him, why should he care if the lass got herself offed? At least his worries would cease, but then he genuinely became stressed about the girl's well being. He had scoured through all sorts of contacts hoping to find a hint about the girl, coming up empty handed.

Some thick headed courier told him the girl had gone and joined the Stormcloak army and was now the personal knife in the side of the Empire. Brynjolf choose purposefully to ignore that rumour, although it's truths were somewhat undeniable.

So, when she casually walked through the market place without even acknowledging his existence he became _very _angry. Before he was even aware of what he was doing he was on his way over to her, storming over to her tired form. He was going to give that fool a fair piece of his mind, fully intending on expressing every inch of his rage.

Catching her by the arm, and silencing her yelps with his hand he dragged her behind the high walls of the Temple of Mara, pressing her back against the stone wall. The lass struggled against his hold and probably would've broken it too if she wasn't so tired. Giving up on her futile struggle she just glared at Brynjolf heatedly, lips struggling to speak against his hand.

"Shh, lass," he warned, casting an eye around, hoping he hadn't drawn attention. "We need to talk. _Now._" He growled as her fighting began to pick up again.

The seriousness of his tone stilled her, dark blue eyes waiting for him to begin talking. Seizing his window of opportunity he leaned in towards her, unshaven whiskers rubbing against her cheek bone.

"Where have you been!?" He demanded, pulling away slightly to meet her eyes. " You had half the town worried sick about you." He paused, seeking for the proper words. "You had _me _worried dammit."

This really took her by surprise, a sharp exhale of breath breezing across his constricting palm. Her brows furrowed together in question, almost begging him to elaborate.

Brynjolf shook his head, upset with himself for letting that bit of information slip. "Never mind that," he snapped, "where were you?"

The Dragonborn's nostrils flared in irritation and her pupils narrowed, she didn't want to tell him, that much was obvious.

Shaking in pent up annoyance, Brynjolf brought his other hand to rest on the wall beside her head, face hovering inches from hers. "Tell me," he breathed, hot breath panning against her face.

That was when she did something completely unexpected, she licked his palm. Hot tongue darting past her lips, she teasingly licked the salty flesh of his hand.

Brynjolf was so shocked he jumped away from her, bewildered. Giggling, Aria swiftly nibbled the fingertip of his outstretched hand, before whipping around and sprinting away.

Shell shocked, Brynjolf watched her run away, staring at his moist hand in disbelief. He hadn't thought in his wildest dreams she'd tempt him so recklessly. Shaking his head, and smiling Brynjolf wiped his hand off on his pants, unable to stop the tightness of his groin. That lass was playing with fire and soon she'd get burned.

A/N: How was it? Please review ((if you feel so inclined)) and have a good day.

3 Suicidal


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hey guys, new chapter! Please enjoy and review!

Oh btw you pronounce Aria's name Aa-rai-uh just for heads up

Chapter 3: Confrontation

Brynjolf dreamed about the Dragonborn more than he'd like to admit to anyone. He dreamed of her crying out in carnality, and he fantasized about ramming against her pert bottom with more strength than he had to bear. On the other hand, he also had dreams of a much more innocent inclination; where instead of vicious, lovely _sex _they just kissed. Sweet, tender kisses exchanged by frequent lovers, not partners of a quick and dirty tumble. She smelled of sunshine and lavender in these dreams, her light fingers would dance across his chest as she sung honeyed words under her breath to him. Often in these dreams she would tell him she loved him, breathing it against his flesh as she draped herself across him.

And, _damn _those words sounded good coming from her mouth. Never in all his life had he wanted to hear such words, in fact they thought of them often sent him running the opposite direction. But, Brynjolf conceded he wouldn't mind hearing them from her.

And as far as dreams went, Brynjolf was honestly torn between what he enjoyed more, the sweaty intensity of sex or the wondrous sensation of her saying those words to him. All in all, the dreams drove him to the brink of insanity but also sustained him, they were his motivation to move each day. However, he wanted more than just dreams, he wanted the real thing and he was no where near getting it. _Cursed_, that woman would be the death of him yet.

XOXOX

Last nights dream had been different, and in all truth it left him breathless and not in the good way. It started with her brushing small kisses across his throat, flicking at his adam apple playfully, humming happily to herself. That part was pleasant, in fact so much so Brynjolf was embarrassed to find his sheets dirtied that following morning. It was after this enjoyment that things grew _scary. _His dream fingers were desperate for her, and they slowly slipped past her delicious clavicle southward. In his dreams the Dragonborn was soft and willing, soft mewls falling from her lips like hymns to the Divines. Teasingly, his needy fingers plucked at the pebbled cherries quivering upon pale orbs, chuckling deep in his throat. She moaned his name through heavy pants, withering beneath his touch in a way that made his length pulse with desire.

"Brynjolf, please." She pleaded, dark eyes hazed with lust and craving, lips parted.

Dream Brynjolf leaned up to take her mouth, wrestling with her tongue greedily. Her feverish breaths against his mouth drew him wild with ecstasy. Tearing his mouth from hers he trailed moist, dripping kisses down her throat, past her breasts; heading for the apex of her thighs. It was once he passed her breasts that the dream turned sour. Instead of finding the beautifully scared and thin abdomen he'd always pictured he found the unexpected lump of a soon to be born child.

As if sensing his terror, Aria sat up, twirling her fingers in his hair. "I think it's a boy." She whispered to him, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder. "What should we name him? I was thinking Rogan."

Suddenly the dream shattered, sending Brynjolf reeling back to reality, sitting bolt straight up in bed. Gasping for breath, Brynjolf knotted his sweat drenched hair in hands, biting back a groan of frustration.

"Rough night?" Vex snickered, the blonde hair vixen peering over him with a coy look in her eyes.

Brynjolf glared up at her heatedly, not wanting to deal with the Imperial at the moment. "Piss off," Brynjolf grunted, "I don't need your snide comments."

Vex's eyes just flashed in amusement, but she said nothing. Instead she just sauntered away, casting Brynjolf a rather pointed look over her shoulder before returning to her own cot.

` Exhausted, Brynjolf flopped back onto the hard frame of his bed, cursing the Dragonborn by name. Why did he have to dream about _children_? The very thought made his erection shrink, he wanted _nothing _to do with those grubby, whiny brats. So what was his dream trying to tell him?

Sighing angrily, Brynjolf tossed and turned and fought to return to sleep, hoping he'd no longer he plagued by such dreams.

XOXOX

Brynjolf waited vigilantly for the Dragonborn to leave her house. He knew she was putting off the inevitable, she was obviously avoiding him for as long as she could. And lucky for her the two monster men were also lurking around town somewhere, making his skillful invasion impossible.

Now, if he could guarantee that she wouldn't kill him, he probably would've just broke into her house; but he wasn't entirely sure that was the best idea. In all truth, Brynjolf was unsure how much longer he could hold himself back; he had barely slept since she had returned and exhaustion was driving him to extremes. He knew this was rather pathetic and if anyone from the guild spotted him it'd be the death of his pride, but he needed to talk to her. And this time he wouldn't be so foolish to let her get the better of him either, like the mess up from last time.

Grunting in irritation, Brynjolf decided he had enough of waiting and promptly stomped up to Aria's door and rapped three times. For several long moments he stood there, silence ensuing, straining to hear _something, _Brynjolf pressed his ear to the door.

Instantly the door opened and a _very _tired looking Aria faced the ashamed thief. Black hair tied back with tendrils framing her face and heft bags under her eyes the girl looked like she hadn't slept in a month.

"Brynjolf?" She questioned, voice a rasp as she took in the rather agitated looking rogue, "what are you doing here?"

Struggling to compose himself, Brynjolf straightened his shirt and squared his shoulders. "Lass, we need to talk, and this time no fooling around." Brynjolf gently pushed the Dragonborn aside, stepping inside the stale heat of her home.

Aria opened her mouth to argue but Brynjolf silenced her with a stern look. Rolling her eyes, she gestured Brynjolf to sit in one of the chairs at her small kitchen table. Taking his seat, Brynjolf eyed the girl testily, frustration pouring off him in ways.

"So what was it you wanted?" The girl snapped, eyes flashing. "If you don't mind, I wish you'd leave."

Brynjolf found himself almost chuckling at the lass's forwardness; no doubt that tongue got her in a lot of trouble. But he needed to focus, he _needed _the girl in his guild and it was finally coming to a close if he'd get is answer or not.

Clearing his throat, Brynjolf began his proposition. "I'd like you to join the guild, lass." He stated plainly, eyes hovering over the thin column of her neck left exposed by her night slip. "And I'd be willing to do almost _anything _to sway you to see my side." He growled huskily, involuntarily leaning over the table, hoping she'd pick up on his drift.

She didn't pick up on his heavy hints. Snorting in disgust, she crossed her arms over her chest, leveraging her breasts upwards, and turned her head away from him. "Get out." She said coldly, fingers tapping on her forearm impatiently.

When Brynjolf didn't move she exhaled tiredly, running a hand through her wayward waves. "Look," she said pointedly, "I'm not interested in your guild and nothing you can say will change my mind."

This time Brynjolf couldn't help the sinister smile that crept across his face, "what about me, lass? Are you interested in me?"

Aria blinked stupidly, bewildered by his question. "What?" She peeped, her cheeks burning brighter than Brynjolf would've previously thought possibly.

Brynjolf leaned further over the table, shoving dishes aside, "I asked you if you were interested in me, lass?" He breathed, enjoying the way she tensed as his breath hit her face.

Pushing away from the table, Aria's eyes flickered wildly, blue eyes thunderstruck. "W-what kind of ridiculous question is that?" She bit back but her voice lacked conviction.

"It's a simple one to answer truly, all I'm looking for is a yes or no, lass." Brynjolf thrummed, daring hand slowly raising to tuck a strand of hair behind the Dragonborn's ear.

She inhaled raggedly, her chest rising and falling unevenly. "B-Brynjolf?" She stammered, sliding away from the table, "what are you doing?"

Standing, Brynjolf stalked over to her, cupping her chin with his fingers and raising her gaze to meet his. "Please lass," he implored, "if you're not interested I'll leave you alone, but if you are . . ." Brynjolf let himself trail off, left arm pressing against the wall behind Aria's head, eyes blazing as they bored into hers.

Aria's gripped against the wall, head pounding. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm completely _uninterested._" She managed, voice as soft as a feather.

Brynjolf grinned widely and before the Dragonborn could stop him he pressed a heavy kiss upon her cheek, at the corner of her mouth. "I'm happy to hear it lass," He murmured, "you really had me going there for a second." And then, with that as an explanation, he turned and left, winking at her lewdly before closing the door.

The last glimpse he saw of her was her staring after him looking helplessly confused, and Brynjolf couldn't help but feel smug. He had gotten her back for their previous encounter and his pride began to swell. He then swore to himself next time he was in her house he would become much more _closely_ affiliated with her bed.

A/N: Did you guys like it? Their was a bit more M rated content in there, just for some flavour. Please review, it really motivates me to update and give you better quality faster! Thank you.

3 Suicidal


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hey! This chapter is a bit milder in content but it's vital to plot progressing so please forgive me for that! Other than that please enjoy . . .

Chapter 4: The Deal

It was two days after Brynjolf's daring expose into the Dragonborn's house that she approached him; the swagger back in her step. He could sense her approach, the air seemed to tense and everyone around halted in their spot. The Bee and Barb wasn't exactly Brynjolf's ideal hangout but he knew the lass wouldn't approach him in the Flagon; not that she didn't have the guts but she refused to step down to his level.

"Brynjolf," she said, business like. "I'm assuming you'd still like to speak to me." She said gruffly, taking the empty chair across from him, eyeing him suspiciously.

Putting on his best charming grin, Brynjolf waved over Keerava, wanting to serve the lass a drink before she could hurry off. Once attracting the Argonian's attention, he turned his attention back to the impatient Nord.

"I'm ordering another round of mead, interested?" Brynjolf asked smoothy, knocking back the remainder of his strong brew, whistling under his breath happily.

Sighing exasperatedly, the tired looking lass ran a hand through her flyaway hair, pushing her dark locks away from her face. "I suppose I'll take you up on that offer," she said quietly. "It's been a long day and I could use a drink."

Brynjolf's eyes twinkled over the rim of his tankard, happy that he was able to sway the woman. "Without a doubt, lass," he chuckled lightly. "I've heard a lil' rumour you've been _mighty _busy trying to avoid those two hulking mountains you call men. What's going on there?" His question was lighthearted but his meaning was sharp and he found himself short of breath waiting for her answer.

For a brief moment the lass appeared haggard, eyes faraway and face a grayish parlour; but that all vanished quickly and she swiftly flashed him a small smile. "Oh, you mean Farkas and Vilkas? Those two are just a _wee _bit mad at me as of late truth be told." She admitted sheepishly, twirling a stray strand of hair around her ringer finger.

"And why's that?" Brynjolf pressured, impatient fingers drumming on the cheap plate set in front of him.

Again, she appeared rather exhausted, rolling her midnight orbs in agitation at such pester some questions. "Not that it's any of _your _business but they're still rather upset that I left the guild without telling them and was away for nearly a month." Aria paused, glancing over her shoulder as if she was worried someone may be eavesdropping. Leaning across the table, Aria's eyes flickered around, motioning for Brynjolf to come closer.

Obliging, Brynjolf ducked in closer, finding it _very _hard to not stare at her breasts as her shirt dipped to expose white flesh. "What is it?" He breathed, anxious about the kind of looks the two may be attracting.

Glancing around testily, Aria nodded and decided it safe enough to speak. "I've done things in the past month that shouldn't have been possible but I _did _them." She whispered harshly, eyes dancing in the dim light. "Brynjolf," she mumbled, "I don't know you well and I don't particularly trust you yet, _but _I would like to give you the benefit of the doubt." Aria propped backwards, crossing her arms over her chest. "I would like to wager something with you."

To say he was surprised would be an understatement, Brynjolf was almost rendered speechless and if it hadn't been for the timely intervention of Keerava he would have probably said something quite stupid.

"Drinks," Keevara interrupted tactlessly, placing a heavy tray of mead mugs on the table and walking off, casting them both narrow eyed looks.

Clearing her throat, the Dragonborn continued her explanation, "I know you're a thief. In fact I'm sure _everyone _in here knows you're part of the guild. _And _because you know the systems and have your _sticky_ hands deep into the underbelly of the city, I'd like your help."

Jaw slack, Brynjolf groped for another glass of mead, taking a hefty gulp before speaking. "A deal eh?" He asked, "what kind of deal and _how _much help are we talking here, lass?"

Smirking coyly, the lass brushed her hair over her shoulder flirtatiously, "I know my way around, Brynjolf." She hummed sweetly, reaching across the table to enticingly run the soft skin of her thumb across his knuckles. "I'm good with gold and I'm well rehearsed in the art of ensuring _no one _knows what exactly I've _done_."

Brynjolf gaped at her wordlessly, a heady sweat breaking out across his forehead, throat parching. "What are you suggesting, lass?" He asked hoarsely, her innocent thumb causing more tension then he would have thought possible.

Aria's lips twitched into a full lipped smile, "It's very simple really, _Bryn. _I help you and you help me; simple as that."

Brynjolf's gut stirred at the use of his childish nickname, previously only used by members of the guild. This lass knew a lot more about thievery than she let on, her _innocent _facade was only a cover face she used. But, wary as he was becoming, he was still undoubtedly interested; both in the mystifying lass in front of him and her proposition.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Brynjolf said, watching closely as she took a large chug of mead, sighing in satisfaction.

"I'm thinking," she began, eyes glowing. "I bring you goods you aren't able to find _anywhere _else and you provide me with both a place to lay low _and _some commission for my efforts."

Brynjolf blinked, she was offering her time and skills just for a little bed and board and some gold? He would have to be stupid to turn down such an offer, especially with how hard he had previously been fighting to get her to join the guild! Albeit, the girl wouldn't be asking if she wasn't desperate; what had driven her to asking him for help?

Looking up at the lass, Brynjolf took her in, running his eyes up and down her body. Ebony hair was uncombed, knotted and wind snarled. Her clothing appeared dirty from road travel and the bow on her back had definitely seen battle as of late. Moving to her face, her eyes seemed to be burning into his own, skeptical and tired but also full of vibrancy and eagerness. All in all she was a woman he could no longer ignore and he no longer cared about her circumstances, he wished to help her.

"So?" She prodded, seemingly discomforted by the way his eyes had been raking her over. "Do we have a deal or do I look else where?"

Shaking away his thoughts, Brynjolf set his tankard down on the table and nodded, unable to prevent smiling. "Aye lass," he said, "we have a deal but these _goods _you were babbling about will have to be further discussed down in the Flagon."

Aria crinkled her nose, "I have to go back down to that stink hole? Don't you have a place _in _the city we can meet? Or anywhere _except _down there?"

Brynjolf laughed at her childish expression, "No can do lass, the Flagon is home and if you want a thieves hospitality you'll take what you can get."

Grumbling unhappily, the lass muttered something under her breath. "Even the Brotherhood smells better than that piss hole."

"What was that, lass?" Brynjolf asked, trying to suppress loud laughter.

Blushing, the Dragonborn stood and appeared uncomfortable. "Nothing," she snapped, "let's just go." Then, without waiting for Brynjolf to pay the tab, she rushed out of the bar, slamming the doors behind her.

"This will be interesting." Brynjolf muttered to himself, dropping ten septim on the table and collecting his coat. "Better go catch her before she does something foolish."

A/N: That's it for today I'm afraid. Please review and give me all your beautiful feedback! Have a wonderful day!

3 Suicidal


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So, you know when I said this would probably be 3-5 chapters long? Yeah, scratch that. This is going to be _much _longer I've decided. It's still going to have smut ((of course)) but it'll will be a little bit more of a wait ((sorry)) but this also means there will be more of it. ((most likely multiple chapters of it)) if that sounds good to you please continue reading! If not . . . so long! Other than that please enjoy and review at the end if you please!

Chapter 5: Mercer Disapproves

The Flagon smelled about as well as Aria had expected; the walls ached around them and plaster fell like dust. Brynjolf led her down the windy corridors that reeked of urine, he didn't seem bothered by the awful stench.

Scoffing in disgust, Aria buried her nose in her shirt, hoping to find haven from the smell in her leathers. "How do you live in this place?" She complained, coughing into her sleeve and groaning over dramatically.

Brynjolf just rolled his eyes, the lass was being melodramatic; it wasn't _that _terrible. Aye, the place smelled about equivalent to a sewer, but in all honesty it _was_. The Ratway was a mess of tunnels and corners that made for an easy getaway for any quick witted thief. Casting a glance back at the Dragonborn, Brynjolf couldn't help but smirk cockily; all the work he had gone through to get here her and all she could do was snap about the smell.

Shaking his head in good humour, Brynjolf reached out to pull open the door for the woman, bowing his head respectfully. "After you, lass."

Aria snorted, "Don't go treating me like some stuffy damsel now," she warned him, stepping through the door. "I'm here to make gold and lot's of it. I'm no lady."

Chuckling, Brynjolf nodded his agreement. He _knew _she was no lady, she made that quite obvious with the intense aura she omitted. And even though she was dangerous and somewhat scary, the womanly attributes could not be ignored. The curve of her waist was eye catching and the roundness of her bottom made it clear she was no man; no matter how hard her leathers tried to hide it. In all honesty, Brynjolf did not understand why the woman was so insistent on trying to suppress her obvious appeal, but he did not question the lass.

Giggling, Aria shot Brynjolf a questioning look as he appeared deep in thought. "I'm not keeping you from something am I?" She teased, confidently walking towards the opening flank of the Flagon.

Shaking his head, Brynjolf followed after her, hoping on the Divines that the fellow guild members would be as forgiving as he was.

As the two sauntered up to the bar where Vekel was occupying himself with reorganizing his various liquors. Brynjolf could feel everyone's pointed gazes upon them as the daring lass casually took a vacant spot at the bar, nimbly ordering a drink from a steaming Vekel.

Shooting an apologetic look at Vex and Tonilia, Brynjolf took the stool beside her and nudged the woman gently in the arm. "So, this is the place, lass." He said, sliding the less than generous glass of ale Vekel had served into her awaiting hands. "Home sweet home and all that nonsense."

Aria took the drink without complaint, quickly downing the strong brew without even wincing. "Seems you run a tight knit crew around here," she observed, a smirk playing on her lips as she cast Tonilia a snide smile. "Also seems like you have a few ladies fighting for your undivided attention. That Redguard woman looks about ready to slit my throat."

Worriedly careening over his shoulder, Brynjolf confirmed the lass's suspicion, Tonilia look positively livid, her dark eyes blazing. Groaning, Brynjolf rolled his shoulders and shot Vekel a look, signifying he needed a strong drink _now. _"Sorry about her, lass," Brynjolf apologized halfheartedly, "her and I are a bit at odds as of late."

This comment made the Dragonborn snicker into her mug, eyes crinkling in laughter. "_Oh,_"she mocked dubiously, "so she's _that _kind of friend is she? Interesting."

Brynjolf gaped in embarrassment, deep lines setting upon his brow. Sighing, he asked tiredly, "was it truly that obvious, lass? I've been trying to keep it hush hush."

Chuckling under her breath, Aria gently rested her tankard down on the counter, dipping her slender finger into the cup and running it along the uneven sides. "Trying to keep it 'hush hush'? The woman is as green as emerald seeing me with you, it's clear as day Bryn." Again she used his nickname, the sweet title rolling off her tongue like a sultry sin.

Brynjolf's stomach coiled in heat at the girls use of his name; his mind wandered to her crying out that name in climax as she came, he tried to suffocate those thoughts. Changing the subject, Brynjolf asked, "where did you hear that name, lass? No one has called me that for many years."

Aria's blue eyes glinted in the light, lips pulling back to expose white, even teeth. "It's a secret. I've come to acquire _many _useful pieces of information in the past couple months, I have my ways."

Brynjolf didn't doubt that the lass had her sources, with as many ties as she had he wouldn't be surprised if she was better informed than him. Glancing at her out the corner of his eye, he took his time to memorize her features, his dreams were too often blurry. Today, she seemed happy if not excited, her sapphire eyes danced and dark lashes framed them as a sort of protective netting. From her even brow line to her straight, upturned nose she was every inch beautiful if not unnaturally so. Her heritage was Nordish, this was not uncommon knowledge, she was born in Solitude and raised by Nord parents; _but _her features were much more exotic than any he had seen. Hair as dark as an Imperial's or Redguard's, her face was pale where theirs were tan, planes of ivory skin lightly dotted in freckles across the bridge of her nose.

Turning her head, Aria caught Brynjolf's wondering gaze, smiling in spite herself; she had caught him looking at her. "We should find your guild master," she said matter of factually. "I would like to meet the leader of such an _esteemed _company." Her voice was sarcastic, insulting even.

Standing, she flicked her hair back from her face rather dramatically, upturning her nose at Tonilia before waiting for Brynjolf to join her.

Grimacing at the thought of the trouble he'd be in later, Brynjolf quickly stood. "Come this way," he gestured, heading down the back halls to the Cistern. "Mercer is this way, where he _always _is." Pushing open the door to the Cistern he heard the lass gasp as she took in their hideout.

Various walkways and beds tucked in every corner one could fit, the Cistern didn't seem like much to Brynjolf himself but he was thoroughly pleased with the lass's reaction. She spun in circles as she took in the circular room, oohing and aahing at the mere size of the place.

"Who knew the sewers would be so spacious." She mumbled, awestruck. Then her face soured as she took in the fragrance, "still seems terrible however."

Rolling his eyes, Brynjolf led Aria past the curious looks of his fellow thieves, murmurs breaking out immediately about the presence of this foreign stranger. Rune, being his usual devious self, sauntered up to the two of them.

"Why _hullo _there Brnyjolf," he greeted, "and who might you be pretty lady? I could swear I've never seen _you _before." Rune's eyes blatantly raked over Aria's body, taking in every nook and cranny of her curvacious figure.

Brynjolf could feel his fists clench at his sides, teeth grinding in his jaw. Luckily, the lass said something before he could punch Rune in the nose.

"Name's Aria," she introduced herself offhandedly, "I'm here on business. Brynjolf believes I may have a knack for stealing. Isn't that right, Brynjolf'"

Blinking away his rage, Brynjolf nodded stiffly. "Aye, now we best not keep Mercer waiting, he's not a patient man." Glaring at Rune pointedly, he nodded his head towards Mercer's desk, guiding Aria away from the prying eyes of his shameless guild mates.

Once out of earshot, Aria spoke, "he seems kind. What's his name? He's quite attractive."

Brynjolf's teeth scraped together painfully, "Rune," he hissed. "His name is Rune."

Confused at his anger, Aria just nodded her understanding. "What an odd name. I'll have to ask him about it later." She concluded.

Grunting, Brynjolf just mumbled darkly, "I'm sure he'd _love _that, lass."

Finally the two approached Mercer's desk, the older man hunched over what seemed like a business ledger. Looking up from his pages of numbers, Mercer gave Brynjolf an irritated look, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Brynjolf?" He questioned tersely, "what are you doing here? And who is this?"

Brynjolf opened his mouth to speak but before he had the chance the lass had stepped forward, giving Mercer her most enchanting smile.

"Hullo, I'm Aria." She said cheerfully, extending a hand for a shake. "You may have heard of me, I'm Thane around here." The Dragonborn grinned cheekily, hand still awaiting a shake.

Mercer looked down at her offered hand as if it was a personal offence, his nose upturning in disfavour. "Charmed," he sneered, eyes flickering back to Brynjolf his questions grew more intense. "What is this about, Brynjolf? What is this complete stranger doing in our _secret _hideout?"

"As the lass said, her name is Aria. I brought her as a potential recruit." Brynjolf said, shouldering past a crestfallen Dragonborn, hiding her behind his broad back. "I believe she'd be a worthy asset to the guild."

Mercer's nostrils flared, "Oh, is that _so_? And who made you so entitled that you thought you could just bring me whatever sewer rat you yanked out of the gutter?"

"I'm _no _gutter rat!" Arai yelled, hand drifting to the small blade on her hip. "You better watch your tongue before _something _happens to it."

Mercer gazed at the Dragonborn with slightly piqued interest, "you always did like the difficult ones didn't you Brynjolf? But this woman looks no more impressive than some shifty eyed pick pocket, she just seems like a nonsensical nuisance."

Aria's cheeks flared at the insult, and she swiftly drew her blade, enchantment glowing threateningly. Pointing the end at Mercer testily, she spat out. "You watch it scum, one more comment out of you and you'll be tasting steel."

"Lass, _please_." Brynjolf begged, putting a hand on her wrist to force down her dagger. "Let me talk to him, just go sit down somewhere and be a good girl."

Aria protested loudly as Brynjolf sent her away, arguing loud enough for everyone in the Cistern to hear. Once far enough away that she knew she couldn't be heard she began to string together profanities no woman should ever say at once.

"Now, that is how _all _woman should speak, I've never felt so attracted to a person before now." A voice sounded from behind her, sending Aria jumping.

Turning abruptly, Aria was met by a handsome Nord man with red war paint slashes on his cheeks, leaning against a banister.

"And who might you be?" Aria snapped, "another man coming to taunt me about my skill and ability?"

The man shook his head, "I've not come to mock you. Thrynn is the name and I'm merely curious by nature is all." He pushed away from the pole on which he was leaning, his true height showing. "I'm interested in what your involvement with Brynjolf may be."

"Involvement?" Aria asked dumbfounded, "I have no clue to which you are talking. This is merely business, surely you understand that?"

"I understand business as well as any other thief," Thyrnn said, voice a deep rumble. "But it's more than rumour there has been some woman our _Bryn_ has taken a fancy to as of late and I can't help but wonder . . ." He trailed off, stepping closer to Aria so he towered over her, eyes dark as coal.

"Tell me, who is Brynjolf to you?" He pressured, body looming inches from the Dragonborn's, heady breath pouring down her neck.

Aria opened her mouth to give the man a piece of her mind, but before she was able she was yanked away by a calloused hand.

"Thrynn," the familiar voice spat acidly, "I do so hope you were treating our _new _guild member fairly now."

Thrynn's eyes widened, "new guild member eh? So you were able to persuade Mercer to get her to join? Impressive if not a bit desperate."

Brynjolf snarled, centring Aria behind him, eyes narrowed. "Mercer is a smart man, he can see the potential in this one."

Thrynn just appeared unimpressed, "we'll see about that." Is all he said before slouching off into one of the back rooms of the Cistern.

As soon as he was gone, Aria distanced herself from Brynjolf, eyes cold. "I could've handled him myself you know." She grit out, "you're exactly like Mercer and don't believe I can take care of myself." Eyes a blue firestorm, Aria shook her head exasperatedly, as if she knew she was wasting her breath. "Never mind that, just show me where I should rest my head, I'm turning in." She muttered, a shadow crossing over her face.

Unable to speak, Brynjolf just pointed to an empty bed near, watching dejectedly as the lass stormed away, kicking off her boots and falling into bed. Tired and feeling incredibly foolish, Brynjolf walked over to his own bed, assuring himself that this was a smart decision.

A/N: So, did you like it? Please let me know in the reviews if you did. It means a lot to me and helps me motivate myself to keep writing you more quality work! Until next time . . .

3 Suicidal


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Yo, here I am for the weekly update. Please review/favourite/follow I love you all!

Chapter 6: Treading on Ice

Brynjolf awoke to the sound of whispers. Cracking his eye open he could make out the shadows of his guild mates as they all hurried around the guild. Groaning, he rolled back over, the scent of his own sweat almost causing him to vomit. He couldn't sleep with all this noise, the entire Cistern was an eruption of mummers and mumbles.

Cursing not so subtlety, he rose from bed, quickly dressing to see what all the commotion was. Everyone was gathered around the campfire, yammering to one another and looking about worriedly, approaching Delvin, Brynjolf asked.

"What's going on here," he questioned, brows drawing together tightly. "Everyone seems to be real high strung this morning."

Delvin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, eyeing Brynjolf tersely. "The new recruit seems to have gotten up awfully early and blew the coop," Delvin's eyes flashed with hidden meaning, "seems like she's found herself a fair slice of trouble up top."

Brynjolf sizzled in anger, what in all the Divines names did the lass manage to do? Grabbing Delvin by the shoulder, eyes flashing, Brynjolf managed to hiss out. "What _kind _of trouble might I ask?"

Appearing uncomfortable with Brynjolf's sudden rage, Delvin pulled away from the other mans grasp and met his eye. "It would seem she took Mercer's little comments to heart last night, she managed to break into the Black Briar's and steal a hefty amount of goods."

Brynjolf paled, horror seizing his entire body. The _Black Briars?! _Was the lass insane as well as she was stupid? Fighting to compose himself, Brynjolf's ran a hand through his hair, shoulders quaking in suppressed fury. "Do you have any idea where she might be now?" Brynjolf asked through clenched teeth, skin flaming underneath his leathers.

Warily, Delvin shrugged, "no one knows. I heard she was chased across the roof tops by the city watch this morning. Someone said the woman dove into the lake and swam away before the guards could even put an arrow through her."

Dragging his hand across his face in exhaustion, Brynjolf groaned; was the lass a complete idiot? Pushing past Delvin, Brynjolf began to make his way towards his trunk, searching for his blade.

"Where do you think you're going?" Delvin called after him, blinking back his shock at Brynjolf's lack of composure.

"To find that bleedin' fool." Brynjolf's grunted as he strapped on his sheath and stashed a few potions and coins into his bag. "I'm not going to let her out that easy."

Staring at the man as he hurried around, collecting his things; Delvin couldn't help but smirk knowingly. Brynjolf wasn't a man of rash decisions and he certainly did _not _go out of his way to risk his neck for others. Yet, as the red haired man thundered out of the Cistern, Delvin knew that something had changed within the man. He wondered what other changes that woman would bring to the guild.

XOXOX

He didn't know why but he had ended up here. As Brynjolf gazed upon the ancient building a sour taste spread across his tongue. Jorrvaskr was exactly how Brynjolf had imagined the place although he couldn't say that was good thing. The air around the place smelled of iron and sweat and loud voices could be heard from within; he was starting to wish he'd never come.

Brynjolf had no idea if the lass would even be here; honestly she could be dead for all he knew albeit he knew he couldn't return to Riften until he had found her. Cussing, Brynjolf took the first step up to the guild slowly, hand on his sword in a precaution. Hopefully the other members of the Companions would be more understanding than those two monstrous twins, he needed to find Aria and give her a generous piece of his mind.

Approaching the door, Brynjolf wondered if he dared to knock or if he should just walk in. Wrought with indecision, Brynjolf's knuckles pounded on the door thrice before dropping to his side. He waited with baited breath for the door to open, hoping it'd be a friendly face.

The woman who opened the door was _wild _looking. Auburn hair was windswept and fell messily around her shoulders and dark face paint slashes marred the beauty of her face. Yellow eyes sized him up mercilessly, lips quirking in something familiar to amusement.

"It's not often we have _thieves _visit our halls," the woman said icily. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The strangers gaze sent chills through his blood and something about her eyes unsettled him to his core. "Cut the chatter," he snapped with more confidence than he had, "I'm looking for someone."

The woman cocked an eyebrow, entertained at his forwardness. "And _who _might that be?" She asked coyly.

"Her name is Aria," Brynjolf said, "but she also seems to go by the title Harbinger."

At this comment the woman's eyes widened, glinting in some emotion Brynjolf couldn't put into words. "I'm surprised you know her face name," she said, lips pursing in thoughtfulness, "our Harbinger goes by many names but seldom few know her real name. Come inside." Stepping aside, the woman disappeared into the guild and Brynjolf could do nothing but trail after her.

The moment Brynjolf stepped inside the hall he could feel the tension, everyone's eyes trained on the Nord as he followed their guild mate. The nameless woman led him to a scar faced man who, Brynjolf wished, wasn't a face he knew.

"Vilkas," the woman said, voice laced in urgency. "This man here says he knows Aria."

Brynjolf stood before the man who could probably snap his arm in his hand if he so wished bravely, shoulders squared back and jaw set. "Vilkas," Brynjolf greeted him stiffly, "nice to see you again, maybe this time you can rough me up enough to leave a couple _more_ bruises."

Vilkas glared up at Brynjolf from his seat, anger pouring off him in waves. Diverting his gaze to the woman, Vilkas demanded, "why have you brought this whelp to me Aela? This _scum _is the reason our Harbinger has been spending so much time in that damn rat hole of a city."

The woman, who's name was revealed to be Aela, stared at Brynjolf unabashedly, "_you're _the 'narrow minded, yet incredibly handsome thief' our Harbinger has been blabbing about for weeks now?" She asked, jaw dropped, "I just don't see what she likes about you."

Brynjolf couldn't help the prideful leer that pulled across his face; so the lass thought he was handsome did she?Stroking his chin happily, Brynjolf could feel his confidence and vigour return and he smirked down at the simpering Vilkas.

"Aye, that would be I," Brynjolf pronounced proudly, "now if you'd kindly tell me if the lass is here or not I'll be on my way."

Vilkas snarled up at Brynjolf in way scarily similar to a feral dog, "I'll tell you _nothing._ Aria returned late this morning exhausted and half dead with hunger; I'd _die _before I saw her leave these halls before she's better." At this, Vilkas stood, exposing his full height and the extent of his anger. "You'd best leave before I do something _terrible _to that mug of yours."

Brynjolf was about to draw his blade and show the colossal Nord who really had prowess with a blade, but before he could even draw his sword a shout exploded throughout the hall.

"ENOUGH!" The holler shook the tables and half a dozen glasses went tumbling to the ground where they smashed. Everyone froze, heads turning on their shoulders to catch a glimpse of the owner of such a massive voice.

Aria stood on the opposite side of the room dressed in nothing but her night slip, breasts heaving as her lithe body shook in outrage. "You _idiots_!" She shrieked, snatching a blade off a nearby tabletop and rushing at Brynjolf and Vilkas who just watched her shell shocked.

Her blue eyes blazed like cobalt flame as she slashed at Brynjolf, missing her mark purposely. Untied hair lashed around her face like a tarry tornado, strands tangling in her lashes. Again she lunged at Brynjolf, this time aiming to knock his sword from his hand. Paralysed in disbelief, the blunt side of her dagger hit his wrist with a fierce impact, sending his sword clattering to the floor.

Growling, she kicked the sword away, sending it across the cobblestone floor. Then she twisted her body so quickly Brynjolf almost didn't see her do it and slapped him across the face, _hard. _

"That's for being a blundering idiot," she spat, lips curling around the words. She then turned to Vilkas who the entire time was staring at her breasts in complete awe. "And _you,_" she blustered, pointing her knife at the hollow of his throat. "Don't you _dare _act as if I'm yours to take care of."

Everyone remained deathly silent before a loud laugh broke the silence. A sandy haired Nord with a mug of ale in hand tossed his head back and laughed endlessly, the chuckles pouring from his mouth.

Aria bristled at the laughter, cheeks reddening as she dropped her arm and tried to cover herself, "T-Torvar, shut it." She whispered harshly, averting her eyes and trying to pull her scanty slip over her bottom.

Pounding his fist on the table, the man named Torvar risked falling out of his chair at how hard he was

snickering. "Forgive me ma'am," he gasped, struggling for breath. "I've just never seen two men so taken aback at a little bit of chest that they were both unable to fight!" Letting out another howl of laughter, Torvar chugged down the remainder of his drink, chuckling. "That was a sight to be seen."

Flushing in mortification, Aria took hold of Brynjolf's wrist and proceeded to drag him after her. "Follow me," she mumbled, "we need to talk and in _private_." She shot a nasty glare back at Vilkas as she led him down the stairs to the sleeping quarters.

As he followed her past various bedrooms, Brynjolf found it hard _not _to look at her behind as cupped cheeks peeked out from beneath her robe. Focusing his gaze on the back of her head instead, Brynjolf was brought to a generous sized room at the end of the corridor.

Closing the door behind them, Aria pointed at a bench as she hurried into the back bedroom to put some clothes on. "Stay here whilst I get dressed," she ordered him. "And it'd be in your best interest _not _to peek, I'm in a sour mood and I might just get angry."

With that she left Brynjolf alone in the front room as she changed. Brynjolf tried to stay still, he didn't want to face the Dragonborn's wrath again, _but _his curiosity overwhelmed him. Standing, Brynjolf began to poke around, tampering with her personal things. First thing he noticed was how many books the lass had, tomes lined shelves and were stacked upon every available surface. Brynjolf found this intriguing because the written word was often neglected in Skyrim, he stroked his fingertip across the cover of one named _Dragonborn: Myth or Legend? _Second thing he noticed was the unusual amount of jewellery around the room, on dressers and safes there was multiple pieces; everything from sapphire to emerald.

Brynjolf was just about to pick up a particularly pretty diamond ring when the bedroom door slammed open. Dropping the ring instantly, Brynjolf looked over his shoulder at the lass nervously, like a child caught doing something naughty.

"I thought I told you to stay on the bench." Aria grumbled, now fully dressed in her custom leathers, her beautiful elven bow strapped to her back. "Can't you even listen to simple instructions?"

Brynjolf chuckled, leaning against her dresser calmly. He couldn't help but notice the intimacy of their surroundings, the stone walls would do well to muffle the sound of love making, he thought snidely. However, looking at the lass he could tell she was in no mood for such games, her expression was strained and annoyed.

"Why are you here?" She asked, taking a seat at the small table in the corner and pouring herself a glass of wine. "If you're worried about how the Black Briar's may respond to the guild don't worry about," she took a sip of wine, swallowing slowly. "I paid Maven back in full for the goods I took."

"You did?" Brynjolf asked incredulously, "how much of a beating did your coin purse take, lass?"

Aria looked up at him, lips smiling over the brim of her glass. "A mere five hundred septims is all," she said nonchalantly, "nothing to stress over. Although I reckon the guards are still mighty angry at me."

Brynjolf's eyes bulged, the lass threw around that kind of coin so easily? "A mere five hundred? Lass! Are you insane? That's a large amount of coin just for some foolish excursion!"

Aria shrugged, "I wanted to prove my point to Mercer. I _can _take care of myself and I'll be the _best _thief in the entire dammed guild." She snorted, taking a vicious bite of sweet roll. Then, through a mouthful of pastry, she said, "you just wait and see."

Brynjolf could do nothing but laugh, shaking his head at her childish sayings. "I'm sure you will, lass."

A/N: Did you like? If you did please review or tell me so. Until next time . . .

3 Suicidal


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: So this chapter is a bit lengthy and full of flashbacks and important moments in my OC's life. I tried to make it a good read and engaging so please tell me if I succed or if you found it interesting

Thanks guys!

Chapter 7: A Tale of Old

Convincing Vilkas to let Aria leave with Brynjolf was a challenge indeed. It took about half hour of long hard conversing for him to finally agree that Brynjolf could_ follow_ her back to Riften. The entire discussion Brynjolf couldn't help but notice the way everyone in the guild watched the girl. It was something similar to the way he eyed coin or stolen goods, with glowing appraisal and hunger. Not to mention the _odd _friction around the lot, they way they watched her was enough to send chills down his spine. When they were finally about to leave Brynjolf couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief; that place made his skin crawl. Upon leaving the Jorrvaskr, Aria told Brynjolf she had a few loose ends to tie up before they could leave so he waited at the bar impatiently. After what seemed like hours of just waiting for the lass to finish up, the two finally departed from Whiterun, leaving the tall walls behind them.

XOXOX

The travel back to Riften was quiet and tense. Both thieves remained mostly to themselves as they trotted alongside one another, two long days travel ahead of them. Aria, as Vilkas had said, was exhausted and Brynjolf couldn't help but watch the lass out the corner of his eye to ensure she wouldn't fall off her steed. As Brynjolf watched her, he found himself doing this more often now, he was drawn to her multiple scars. The girl had so many he wondered how long she'd taken to tasting danger.

Besides her newly acquired scar the lass had one stroking through her arched left brow, small and sweet, likely a kiss from a dagger. Travelling down her face, a rather nasty looking scrape tugged at her bottom lip, like a burn from a fire. Brynjolf found it curious how the woman had obtained such glory marks and before he could realize what he was doing he asked.

"Where did you receive all those scars, lass? You have far more than any pretty lady I've seen in these lands."

The Dragonborn tensed slightly in her saddle, eyes focusing sharply on Brynjolf. Lips pursed, as if she was unsure how the answer the question she flashed him an easy smile. "You'll have to be more specific than that. To which one are you referring?" Her tone was light and joking but he could sense a hidden emotion deep within her carefully practiced facade.

"The one through your eyebrow," Brynjolf said, fingers wrapping around his reins a bit tighter than necessary. "How did you get that one?"

A puzzled expression crossed the lass's face, curious fingers rose to her brow and stroked the risen scar tissue; almost like she forgot about it's presence. "Ah, this one," she mumbled, fingers still resting on her face. "My Pa gave me this one when he found me in bed with a foreigner."

Brynjolf's jaw fell open, yanking his horse in surprise, the mare neighing loudly in complaint. "Divines!" Brynjolf exclaimed, shaking his head, "a foreigner? How foreign are we talking, lass?"

Aria frowned deeply, hand dropping limply at her side, "A Redgurad. He was a Redguard." She said softly, a muscle feathering across her jaw. "Pa told me I deserved it for being a good for nothing trollop and wench."

Suddenly Brynjolf wished he hadn't brought up the matter at all. The pain in the woman's face was so fresh and clear that it sent his own heart rumbling. Never before had he considered the struggles Aria had gone through or the things she had seen. In all honesty it terrified him.

Picking up on his silence, Aria forced a smile at the rogue. "It's all in the past now anyways, the man died a couple years ago in some Forsworn raid. I've forgotten about it."

Brynjolf stared at the girl with a guilty pride. He admired her guile and bravery and if he didn't know any better he might say he was falling for the damn lass. Brynjolf didn't know what pushed him to ask this next question, but before he could retrieve it the words had already left his lips.

"What of your father? Is he still alive?" Brynjolf asked.

Aria looked at him sadly, eyes downcast and shoulders limp. "I don't rightly know. I ran away from him and Solitude soon after that and I haven't been home to see if he's still there." Her voice faltered, eyes hazy and distant in thought. "The idea had never passed my mind really. But I'm positive I don't want to go back, I don't know what the man would do to me if he saw me now." Aria shuddered at some past memory, rubbing at her arms as if she was chilly.

Brynjolf forced himself to divert his gaze from the Dragonborn's face, his breathing an unsteady mess. He didn't know what was happening to him but he didn't like it. Uncontrollable and scary it ran him ragged and made him say things he didn't mean, it was driving him mad. Not knowing what to say Brynjolf just grunted and directed his gaze back to the path ahead of them, trying to swallow the words forming on his tongue.

XOXOX

When nightfall came upon them, Brynjolf's entire body felt like a bruise. As they huddled around the campfire Aria had so quickly made he couldn't stop rubbing his tired limbs in wake.

The Dragonborn on the other hand seemed unaffected by the long days ride and chewed her deer venison in thoughtful silence, eyes faraway.

He couldn't help himself to wonder what the lass was thinking about, his own meat vanishing long ago in postponed starvation. She didn't seem bothered by soreness or even as hungry as she ought to be after not eating for many hours; in fact she seemed nothing more than tired and distant. Brynjolf wished he ask her about her father, question her about her childhood and all the things she had seen. It would be an interesting story without a doubt and it would surely erase a few of the many blanks in her past.

Looking up from her nibbled hind, Aria cocked a brow at Brynjolf, finally catching on to his unabashed staring. "You must have many questions," she stated matter of factually. "Everyone _always _has questions."

Brynjolf gazed at her out the corner of his eye, the need to shuffle closer to her impulsive. It was wrong of him to push her to give him answers but he had craved them for so long it all just tumbled out unannounced.

"Aye, I have questions." He nodded in affirmation. "More than I could count on my fingers at that. I just wish to know about you, lass." He sighed, that sounding _much _worse aloud than it had in his head. "I want to know your story."

Sky blue eyes glimmered in nostalgia, and her full lips quirked at the corners as if she was trying to smile. Poking at the fire with a long stick she whispered, "my story, eh? That's asking a lot from a girl, greedy Brynjolf." She smirked at him skittishly, shaking her dark head. "Albeit a fair one, I do owe someone the honour of my tale but I never believed that person to be a quick thief." Aria giggled almost bitterly, taking another small bite out of her meal.

Brynjolf's breath quickened, "does that mean you're going to tell me?" He asked excitedly, heart racing.

Aria shrugged dolefully, "I suppose I could tell you a _part_. Namely my childhood, if that unfortunate story intrigues you."

Opening his mouth to speak, Brynjolf snapped his jaw closed abruptly. What he really wanted to know was her present, the here and now. But he didn't want to refuse _any _information the lass was willingly giving up.

"Please," he gestured to her, "I would enjoy a story of the legendary Dragonborn's past."

Appearing amused at his curiosity, Aria nodded. " Of course, I'll tell you of my childhood in Solitude and about my Pa." She paused, wiping meat juice on her leathers. "It's not much of a story, a bit sad and naive if there ever was one but I'll share it." Aria put down her venison, her bird-like appetite apparently exhausted.

"I was four when I was bought by the man I call my father. It was a quick, underhand deal between my birth mother and him and within the day I was handed over. I had nothing with me, my mother taking everything of septim value with her on her way. To this day I don't know where she went or what was more important to her than raising her daughter, she just vanished." Aria stopped, catching her breath and running a hand through her messy tresses. "My Pa was a stable master, strong and burly by nature; he was not a man of words or kindness and he treated me like I was nothing more than an extra pair of hands. Most days I helped him around the farm, pushing plows and pulling weeds from dusk to dawn. It wasn't such a bad life, I loved horses and still do,and it seemed as long as I kept my mouth shut I wouldn't be hit." This time her face soured, her brows drawing together in troubled thought.

Brynjolf wanted to tell her she could stop at anytime but he couldn't find the words. So he just sat there and stared at her, eyes wide.

"As I was saying," Aria carried on, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. "Life was simple and quiet until my adopted mother died, after that everything just seemed to stop. Pa went crazy, in plain words, and everyday after her death was a waking hell. Often he'd get into fights with the neighbours or start brawls in the inns. Guardsmen and villagers despised us, and Gwenneth and I were taunted and mocked whenever we went into the city. Pa also took to the drink, a bottle in his hand from the time he woke till whenever he passed out. The alcohol brought out his violent side and one afternoon when he was particularly mad at me he cut off all my hair." Absentmindedly, Aria fiddled with her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear.

Straightening herself she focused again and continued."Soon he sent his birth daughter Gwenneth off to Solitude to marry some man who was little more than his title. In some ways I actually sympathetic towards Gwenneth, she may not have been kind towards me but she never was purposefully hateful; as a child I appreciated that." Sighing loudly, Aria looked up at him, lips pursed. "Are you sure you wish to hear all this? It's rather pathetic really."

Resisting the urge no longer, Brynjolf moved closer to her his thigh pressing against her own. "Yes, I want to hear it, lass. We've got all night might as well waste it with a story." He grinned at her, trying to alleviate the tension around them.

Luckily his plan succeeded, the Dragonborn cast him a small cornered smile. "Well, if you insist I suppose I must," she snickered. "So back to what I was saying, after Gwenneth went away I met Lian. He was a travelling merchant, Redguard by blood he was dangerous and mysterious to me and I was very much attracted to him." Aria flushed gently, scratching her cheek in embarrassment.

Brynjolf could feel his gut tighten in ridiculous jealousy, but he suppressed it and concentrated on her tale.

"Lian had some sort of business deal with my Pa, I was never made aware of what such deal was. He hung around the farm often, smoking exotic herbs in a long pipe he called a _halutea. _As much as I could, I would flutter about him; asking him questions about his travels and all the things he had seen. I was envious of his journeys and begged him many times to take me with him when he finally left. Lian always refused, he said he had no intention of bringing me into such a treacherous world of uncertainties and danger. He told me a pretty girl like me had no place in a place as harsh as the lands of Skyrim, I told him I disagreed. It was around this time that Lian started showing interest in me. Over the months his business deal with Pa lasted, I had grown in more than age. Regularly, he'd compliment me on my beauty and wit and he even began teaching me alchemy lessons when my Pa was out. I couldn't help but fall in love with him. I worshipped his praise and began brushing my hair and wearing the nicest dresses my own hands could sew just to impress him. One could say I was completely smitten with Lian and I probably wouldn't have argued. Promptly following these few weeks of constant flirting and fleeting glances he invited me to his caravan, kissing me gently to seal the invitation. I followed him that evening almost desperately, not only had I fallen head over heels for the man but he was my way out, and escape route from my Pa." Aria paused, rubbing at her warm cheeks frustratedly. "I slept with him that night. In all my awkward inexperience to his suave kisses and tender caresses as he touched me like no man before. For a short while it was perfect, in his arms I was at peace like I'd never been before . . . that all ended quickly when my Pa came bursting in. _Luckily_, he was drunk of his ass and only managed to slash my brow," she tapped her eyebrow, the moonlight scar glowing. "That was the night I received such a bold mark that I'd have the shame of bearing it the rest of my days. Lian and I were able to topple my Pa and escape before he could do any real damage but we both knew it was over between us then. Lian kissed me goodbye, collecting all his necessary items and abandoning his caravan and I, he disappeared into the night. I never saw him again after that and that night I _too _vanished, leaving my father and everything I'd ever known behind. I knew I had to make my way in the world so I began travelling, fighting, gambling and stealing just to get by." Aria huffed, exhaling though her nose. "And now I'm here, spilling my guts to a man I barely even know." She smiled at him crookedly, eyes twinkling like the stars in the sky.

It was in that moment that Brynjolf did what he'd been envisioning for months. He kissed her with all the fire and passion he could express with his mouth. Unbeknownst even to him what he was doing, Aria stood shock still, eyes saucer wide and lips unmoving. Trying to coax her into the kiss, Brynjolf allowed his hands to knead up her back and tangle in her windswept hair, blunt fingernails brushing against her scalp. It took moments to fill his need, finally pulling away, fingers still caught in her hair.

She just stared at him blankly, face ashen in astonishment. Azure eyes blinked steadily, heavy lashes fluttering in surprise. "B-Brynjolf?" She stammered, her composure slipping completely as her cheeks heated in scarlet..

He chuckled huskily, gently extracting his digits from her raven hair. "Forgive me, lass. I just couldn't help myself." Standing from the log in which they were situated, he cracked his neck and cast her a smile. "Thanks for the story, but I'm off to bed, see you in the morning, lass." Walking over to his bedroll he hunkered down and faced the opposite direction of Aria, body stilling.

Shell shocked, Aria didn't know what to do except nod, becoming lost in a sea of memories and new wonders. There was _no _chance she'd be able to catch any shut eye tonight.

A/N: Did you guys like it? Please tell me if you like me OC or how the story is progressing and any other nice things. Review if you feel so inclined, love you all.

3 Suicidal


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